Forbidden (Blood Ties #7)

I closed the door behind me, slipped the gun into my waistband at the small of my back, and inhaled hard. I was fucking desperate…and dangerous. The sun beamed down as I walked around the four-wheel drive and headed for the front door of the house. As soon as I neared, I heard the soft sound of music, blues by the sounds of it. I pressed the doorbell and stepped backwards, pasting a smile on my face.

The music dulled and footsteps followed. Then the door opened and the most boring looking man in fucking existence greeted me. “Michael?” I muttered. “Michael DiAngelo?”

He smiled and scowled, opening the security door. “Yes, do I know you?”

“Riven,” I answered. “Cruz. I’m here for the Alpha Banks Newspaper. We’re doing a piece on influential alumni and I was hoping I might take up a few moments of your time?”

The grin was instant. “Me?”

It didn’t take a goddamn genius to see he was petitioning for the ten-year Alpha Banks fundraiser to return. To him, this was his big shot. “Only if you have the time?”

“Of course.” He couldn’t get me inside fast enough, holding open the door and stepping back inside. “I’m just blown away, that’s all.Influential Alumni?”

I looked around the bland as fuck house and stepped just inside, turning to keep the gun out of view. “Absolutely,” I answered numbly. “You were at the top of our list.”

“I was?”

I didn’t answer, because I sure as hell wasn’t here to stroke his damn ego. He motioned toward the kitchen. “Can I get you a drink?”

“Sure.” I glanced at the photos of him and his fucking wife.

The happy couple, right? So happy he fucked another woman…my woman.

“Will your wife be joining us?” I asked.

“She’s away for the weekend.” He yanked open the refrigerator and bent for the bottles of water on the bottom shelf. “At some spa retreat. So, it’s just us.”

Just us, huh? “And your mistress?” I said coldly. “She won’t be here as well?”

He froze, then slowly straightened. I reached around, grasped my gun and pulled it free, already taking aim. “Just so I know who else you might be expecting.”

“My mistress?” he repeated carefully as he turned around.

He stiffened when he saw the gun. His eyes widened before they shot to mine. “What…what is this?”

I stepped closer.“Thisis me making sure you stay away from her and killing any idea you have of a rescue mission.”

“Arescue mission?”he parroted.

What was he, fucking stupid? I lifted the gun, taking aim.

“Wait!”He threw his hands into the air, dropping the bottle of water.

It hit the floor with athudand rolled.

“I don’thaveany mistress and I haveno idea about any rescue mission.”

“Liar.” My lips curled.

“I promise. Please, I promise you. You have thewrong g—”

Crack!

He jerked backward, then fell. A tiny trickle of blood on his forehead was barely noticeable. Pity about the refrigerator door behind him.

You have the wrong…

You have the wrong.